Mac Gets Gay
by transdennisreynolds
Summary: After a fight with Dennis, Mac begins a (much needed) journey to self-discovery. [other tags include #OOCcharacters (ie. Mac & Charlie are smarter than usual), platonic #maccharlie, #mentalillness, #bottom!mac, & discussions of #abrahamicreligion]
1. Chapter 1

2:43 AM on a SATURDAY MORNING

[DENNIS, tipsy after drinking an immeasurable amount of tequila with the spray-tanned BLONDE on his arm, chuckles at his own joke as he saunters backward into the APARTMENT. Flipping the light switch upward, he matches the smile on the woman's face at the thought of another glorious soon-to-be sexual conquest. On his way to his bedroom, though, his heel hits something hard and having as much alcohol as he does in system, he falls backward onto the sleeping form of MAC below him, earning a low roan and a half-asleep attempt at throwing DENNIS off by rolling around on the floor lazily.]

MAC: [rubs his eyes, frustrated] What the shit, dude?

DENNIS: [flustered and slurring his words] I should ask you the same goddamn thing! What the hell are you doing on the floor?

MAC: I must've rolled off the couch or something. Why does it matter? [he says from the floor, curled inward and gently massaging his sore side]

DENNIS: Because you shouldn't be sleeping on the floor! Not only is it going to give you back pain which you'll complain about endlessly, but you're drooling all over the hardwood!

MAC: Well, God! I'm _sorry_ , then, ok? [his voice breaks on the last word, making DENNIS cringe]

DENNIS: You're not gonna start blubbering now, right? Jesus Christ, Mac. At least act like man.

BLONDE: [feeling ignored and uncomfortable at the sudden argument] Hey Dennis, I think I'm just gonna call a cab . . .

DENNIS: What? No, Abby, common' let's just—

BLONDE: [crosses her arms and straightens her back, clearly pissed] My name's Brittany, prick.

DENNIS: Look, Brittany— It's an easy mistake to make. How about we—

MAC: No, no. You know what, Den? I'm sick of this shit! [stands up forcefully, swinging slightly due to the alcohol, then puts his finger right on DENNIS' chest] I'm sick of you treating me like some boy toy that you can just throw away when you get bored!

DENNIS: You're still on about that? [he mumbles, looking down with disgust at the finger jabbing at his sternum]

MAC: [stands silently for a moment, staring straight at DENNIS, before lowering his hand and clocking DENNIS right in the jaw]

BLONDE: [covers her mouth in shock with both hands] That's it. I'm leaving! [exits]

DENNIS: [holding his aching jaw in his palm, practically screaming in rage] Goddammit, Mac! God-fucking-dammit! You always ruin everything!

MAC: [laughs weakly for a second] That's fucking rich coming from you. [his voice is muffled by the lump in his throat and the tears he'd been trying to hold back] You treat me like _shit_ , then expect me to treat you like the _God_ you think you are?

[MAC stomps off toward his room, stopping for a second only to grab the half-empty bottle of vodka lying sideways on the coffee table, and slams the bedroom door behind him]

DENNIS: [still screaming, fists balled] You know what? Fine! You'll come crawling back to me in the morning like you always do! You're fucking _obsessed with me_ and you can't ignore it! [he trudges off to his own room and locks the door before grumbling to himself and sliding down against it, pulling his knees toward his chest and burying his chin in his crossed arms]


	2. Chapter 2

11:16 AM on SATURDAY MORNING

[MAC sits on the couch cradling a bowl of Total (which has about a half a cup of sugar in because DENNIS never lets him buy the cereal he wants on grocery store trips) and paying only the slightest bit of attention to "The Forbidden Kingdom" playing on the TV. Next to him is a SUITCASE packed with an armful of clean clothes, a phone charger, and a few toiletries. He had called CHARLIE about an hour ago (who more or less due to his grogginess) agreed to let Mac stay with him and FRANK for the time being. Despite MAC hating the idea of being in Charlie's APARTMENT for more than a few hours (the smell alone was enough to drive him away), he had nowhere to go, considering rooming with his and Charlie's mom was lame as shit. As he was checking off what else he might need to pack in his head and finishing his breakfast, he didn't hear the door to Dennis' bedroom creak open.]

DENNIS: How're you feeling, buddy? [he says gingerly, eyeing the suitcase next to MAC]

MAC: [his eyes still pinned to the film in front of him] 'M fine.

DENNIS: [disinterested in Mac's response] Well that's good to hear. What's with the bag?

MAC: I'm gonna stay with Charlie for a bit. [he mumbles between spoonfuls of cereal]

DENNIS: [offended] Why?

MAC: [rolls his eyes] I just don't think I should be here right now.

DENNIS: What on _Earth_ are you talking about?

MAC: Are you serious? The shit that happened last night? Do you not remember that?

DENNIS: If anyone is to blame it's you. You were piss-ass drunk, rolling around and groaning on the floor. That hot blonde left because you couldn't hold it together!

MAC: [puts the cereal down calmly and slides forward on the couch so he's on the very edge of it] I was gonna leave in an hour, but I think I'm just gonna head out now.

DENNIS: What? [sudden change in tone] No, Mac, that's not— Don't! [he grabs Mac's wrist as Mac rises from the couch with his duffel bag in his other hand]

MAC: Dude, let go. [he's tempted to rip his arm away from Dennis' grip but can't seem to move it]

DENNIS: Look, Mac, I . . . I know I've been a dick lately. [Mac raises an eyebrow] Ok, I've always been a dick. Especially to you. And you don't . . . You don't deserve to feel like you're worthless. And I'm . . . Look, I— You're my best friend and . . . you mean a lot to me. I guess what I'm trying to say is . . . that I'm sorry? Yeah. [more confident now] I'm sorry.

MAC: [he visibly becomes less tense] Den, I really appreciate the apology, but I'm still gonna head over to Charlie's. It'd be good for the both of us to get a break.

DENNIS: [face morphs into one of utter repulsion] Were you even listening? Is Charlie better than me or something? Is that why you're running off to him?

MAC: [shrugs] Well, uh . . . when it comes to not repeatedly treating me like trash, yeah.

DENNIS: I'm so much fucking better than that sewer-roaming illiterate! I apologized too, dammit! Why isn't that good enough? You know what, you don't deserve me. I'm too good for you, that's why you're running to Charlie. You can't handle how fucking awesome I am. That's the only logical explanation why you're running off.

MAC: [with a pained look in his eye] No, Den. _This_ is why I'm leaving. Every time we go through this, you just try to justify the shit you've done instead of taking responsibility for it. You _seriously_ need to get some sort of professional help, dude. Those meds aren't working.

DENNIS: [practically screaming] How would you know? You don't know shit about me! I am in control of my actions and my body at all times! If I wanted to stop, I would!

MAC: I guess I'm not that important to you, then, cause if I was, at all, you'd start taking care of yourself more. You always put how you look before how you feel and it's so _tiring_ , man. I'm sick of worrying about if you're gonna split your head open on the coffee table when you pass out from dehydration or some shit! Then when I bring it up, you rage out on me like you are now. I'm _done_ , Dennis.

DENNIS: [fists balled, face red] Fine! Walk out, _leave_! Everyone does eventually!

MAC: [he starts shaking and matches Dennis' volume] Stop it! Stop fucking doing this! [he brings his hands to his face, squeezes his eyes shut, and digs his blunt nails into his cheeks] I'm so sick of worrying when your funeral's gonna be! I don't want you to die, Dennis! I— it's tearing me apart to see you treat yourself and everyone around you like absolute shit!

DENNIS: [suddenly his face relaxes and raises his hands in front of his chest in a sort of weak surrender] Mac, I—

MAC: Don't. [he snaps, tears running over the red, half moon indents his nails left behind]

[MAC grabs his suitcase from the floor where he had dropped it earlier. He brushes DENNIS' shoulder on the way out and slams the door without hesitation. DENNIS is left standing in the middle of their living room, clenching and unclenching his hands rhythmically, mouth slightly open as if to say goodbye.]


	3. Chapter 3

12:09 PM on SATURDAY

[MAC knocks on Charlie's door and taps his foot as he waits for it to open. FRANK greets him with a low grunt and stands aside as MAC enters, clearly pissed. CHARLIE'S on the couch, eating Cheetos and watching some nature channel show intently]

CHARLIE: Hey, dude! What took you so long? I thought you were gonna come by like an hour ago? [he says, messily licking the cheese powder off his fingers]

MAC: I walked here. [he mumbles almost inaudibly, trying to ignore Charlie's complete disregard for hygiene or manners]

CHARLIE: From your apartment? That's like . . . a ton of miles, bro! Why didn't you just take the bus or something?

MAC: It only took an hour. I'm not going to risk getting thrown up on by a junkie in a cramped bus if it's not absolutely pouring out. Actually, no, I'd rather listen to Dennis scream for an hour in my ear rather than have that happen.

CHARLIE: Isn't that why you're here and not there in the first place, though?

MAC: [shrugs] I guess so. But I'm saying if it was that or being covered in vomit.

CHARLIE: Oh, yeah. [he nods understandingly and pops another few Cheetos into his mouth] So what happened between you two, anyway? I thought those brain pills were working.

MAC: I don't think he's even taking them. I mean if he has he'd be better by now, right? Like those outbursts wouldn't be as bad or something. And he wouldn't be starving himself either, probably. Maybe he'd listen to me too . . . [by now he'd sat down next to CHARLIE, lying back against a couch cushion and crossing his legs] I don't know, man, I'm just kinda worried that one day he's gonna die or something and I'm not gonna be around to ask God if he could reconsider sending Dennis to hell, even though he _totally_ deserves to have the Devil kick his ass.

CHARLIE: But if he's been such a dickwad to you why would you wanna save him from getting what's coming to him?

MAC: He— I don't think he realizes how bad a person he is.

CHARLIE: That makes zero sense, dude.

MAC: [looking up at the stained ceiling and sighing softly] I know.

CHARLIE: [chews silently for a moment] So, you wanna go to the park and help me collect spy coins?

MAC: [somewhat distant] Yeah, sure.

* * *

12:34 PM on SATURDAY

[CHARLIE is shown fully clothed and soaking wet as he sits on the edge of the PARK FOUNTAIN while he sorts through a handful of quarters. Pan over to MAC who's sitting alone on the edge of a PARK BENCH not far from the FOUNTAIN, leaning forward with his hands in his lap, watching CHARLIE trying to count the stolen coins. A few seconds later, a total BEEFCAKE, looking to be in his early 30's, six and a half feet tall, and entirely made of muscle, approaches MAC and follows his line of sight, joining MAC in watching CHARLIE jump back into the shallow water.]

BEEFCAKE: He knows he's not supposed to swim in that, right? [he says, not looking away from CHARLIE as he sits down next to MAC, who barely notices him]

MAC: Yeah. But it's better than him chasing after the pigeons 'cause then he just starts screaming at full volume.

BEEFCAKE: [chuckles] You're joking, right?

MAC: Nope.

BEEFCAKE: [turns to look at MAC who's now fully invested in trying to figure out what CHARLIE has in his hands] He your little brother or something?

MAC: Charlie? No, no way. I'm just bunking with him since I left my and Dennis' apartment.

BEEFCAKE: [raises and eyebrow, interested, and swings a leg over the other to put his arm against the back of the bench, his hand resting casually behind MAC's neck] Well, if you ever get bored of hanging out with him, how's about you come check out this kickass bar with me sometime. The food's great, the drinks are cheap; you seem like the kind a guy who'd love it there. [leans his head back and closes his eyes, basking in the sunlight]

MAC: [finally turns to the BEEFCAKE at the words "drinks" and "cheap" and stops before answering as he realizes just how attractive this guy is.] Uh . . . [blinks] sure, yeah. That sounds great, actually.

BEEFCAKE: [rolls his head sideways to look MAC in the eye with a grin] Sweet. You free tomorrow night?

MAC: Tomorrow? Yeah, should be. [he tightens his grip on his knees subconsciously]

BEEFCAKE: What's your number? [MAC stares, confused] You know, so I can text you the address and time and shit.

MAC: Oh, yeah, right. It's, uh . . . [watches the BEEFCAKE lift up his hips to pull his phone out of his back pocket] it's 484-555-9879.

BEEFCAKE: [keeps his eyes on the screen as he enters the digits] What's your name, anyway?

MAC: Oh, I'm Mac.

BEEFCAKE: [phone beeps, signaling a successfully saved contact, and he meets MAC's mildly anxious gaze] I'm Tom. Nice to meet you, Mac. [reassuring, kind smile]

MAC: Yeah, likewise. [he starts palming his right knee as he looks at TOM with a lazy smile]

CHARLIE: [suddenly, still searching the FOUNTAIN floor for more change] Hey, Mac! I think I'm good here! [looks toward MAC for a response and sees how close TOM is leaning toward MAC] Who's this? [swings a leg over the FOUNTAIN's wall and starts walking toward the two men]

MAC: [somewhat flustered] Oh, uh . . . this's Tom, he's, uh . . .

BEEFCAKE: Hey, you're Charlie, right? [talks slowly as if to a child] Mac told me you were looking for spy coins. What's the spy for? You on the run from the mafia or something?

CHARLIE: [looks nervously between MAC and the BEEFCAKE] No, no. This is just for, like, rainy days, you know? So I can—

MAC: [obviously trying to end the conversation] But you've got enough, right?

CHARLIE: [looks down at the dripping coins in his hands] Yeah, I think so—

MAC: How about we go get lunch, then? [stands up, brushing knees with the BEEFCAKE, who's lying comfortably against the bench with an amused grin, causing MAC's face to get just a tiny bit redder]

CHARLIE: Yeah, I mean if you're hungry—

MAC: Sweet, so let's go, dude. [puts a hand on CHARLIE's shoulder to steer him away from the bench and the BEEFCAKE]

BEEFCAKE: See you tomorrow, Mac! [small wave and a big grin]

[MAC, attempting to turn a distracted CHARLIE's eyes from the BEEFCAKE to the intersection in front of them, keeps his body tense as if walking on coals. CHARLIE returns the BEEFCAKE's smile and wave mockingly before turning and stuffing the coins into his pocket.]

* * *

12:42 PM on SATURDAY

[MAC and CHARLIE walk into an almost empty PIZZERIA, MAC leading and CHARLIE not far behind. MAC browses what's on display and orders two large slices of pepperoni. They stand waiting at the counter for a moment in silence before CHARLIE speaks.]

CHARLIE: So, what was that all about?

MAC: You mean at the park? I don't know.

CHARLIE: _Dude._ [he tilts his head and raises his eyebrows]

MAC: What do you want me to say, Charlie?

CHARLIE: Maybe admit that you shouldn't be hanging out with such a dick.

MAC: Yeah, well I— Wait, _what_?

CHARLIE: He talked to me like I was a kid! That's not the kinda guy you want in your bed.

MAC: [defensively] First off, I'd never let that guy anywhere _near_ my bed . . . where'd you even get the idea that I would? [clearly offended; CHARLIE shrugs] And second— [he pays for their food while balancing both paper plates on his left arm] I didn't get that from him at all.

CHARLIE: Maybe [he takes one of the plates from Mac] that's cause you were so concentrated on hiding your hard-on from the guy.

MAC: [slightly high-pitched and incredulous] What are you talking about? How many times do I have to tell you that I don't . . . I'm not . . . You know.

CHARLIE: Know what?

MAC: Dude, we're in public.

CHARLIE: No, man. I think it's a perfectly good time to bring up your very clear interest in dudes.

MAC: No, Charlie, look—

CHARLIE: Goddammit, bro! Every single time you try to change the subject and I'm sick of hearing you lie! Just admit you're gay so we can get past this.

MAC: But I'm not—

CHARLIE: Then why did you try to kiss Dennis that time, huh? Why'd you have us rub tanning oil all over those bodybuilders on Mac Day? You lying to yourself all the time is getting fucking annoying, bro!

MAC: [eyes shifting back and forth among the few, uninterested people around them] Can we talk about this back at your place or something, cause I'm not feeling too good.

CHARLIE: Yeah, fine. But don't try to weasel your way out of this when we get there.


	4. Chapter 4

****Warning for brief **aggression/hostility during a sexual scene** in this chapter****

1:25 PM on SATURDAY

[CHARLIE unlocks the door to his and Frank's (who is out at the moment) APARTMENT, stepping only a few feet past the threshold to let MAC in before turning around to continue his line of questioning.]

CHARLIE: So . . . if you're not gay, why are you going out with that dick tomorrow night, huh?

MAC: [sighs and flops face-down onto the pullout bed, his head tilted slightly to the side] I don't know, Charlie.

CHARLIE: You know he thinks it's a date, right? And that he's probably gonna wanna sex you up or whatever afterwards, right?

MAC: I don't know. [he mumbles into the disheveled blankets, trying to avoid Charlie's questions]

CHARLIE: Well, what're you gonna do if he does? You gonna go and see what happens?

MAC: I don't know.

CHARLIE: [groans in frustration and sits down next to MAC] Look, we've been friends forever, right? So I think I know you pretty well. And right now, even though I don't like him, I think going out to that bar tomorrow with that guy would help you get over Dennis.

MAC: But what if he tries to bang me afterwards like you said?

CHARLIE: You seemed like you kinda wanted that at the park today, bro.

MAC: [rolls onto his side so that he's facing away from CHARLIE and waits a moment before responding quietly] I can't, though. Homos go to Hell . . . and . . . [growing panic] I don't wanna go to Hell. [breath becomes unsteady as he pulls his knees up to his chest] I can't go to Hell, Charlie! I can't go to Hell! I don't—

CHARLIE: Mac, _Mac_! Come on, man, I don't think God's _that_ cruel. [puts his hand cautiously and awkwardly on MAC's shaking shoulder] He made everyone who they're supposed to be 'cause that's His thing; the stuff you're dealing with is just His way of seeing if you can really be you. Think about the tranny, man. She must've went through some tough shit before she became a woman that must've made her think twice about the surgery. But now she's got the body she always wanted and a husband she loves and now a kid. All she had to do was be herself. [squeezes MAC's shoulder reassuringly] Just . . . don't think you being happy for once is a crime. It doesn't make sense for God to have made you just so you'd suffer like this. I'm pretty sure He's supposed to be caring and loving to people and shit.

MAC: But that's not what the Bible says! If you don't obey, God'll create a famine or a flood or kill everyone you love and you'll end up in Hell, alone, burning for eternity!

CHARLIE: [tries not to roll his eyes] Sure, that's what one old, wrinkly and cranky guy who lives alone in a church says. But other people think other things. Why live a lie when there's a pretty big chance you'll get to Heaven or whatever for just being you?

MAC: [remains silent for a minute before he rolls over and scoots a bit so he can lay his head against CHARLIE'S thigh, revealing a big wet patch where his face had been and red, puffy eyes] If you're wrong about this, I'm gonna drag you into Hell with me.

CHARLIE: You got it, dude. [he smiles and reaches for the remote, turning on the small TV, and lets his hand rest casually on the base of MAC's neck]

* * *

9:57 PM, SUNDAY

[MAC stands on the sidewalk in front of the BAR Tom had said they'd meet at tonight. He's wearing a leather jacket (his Dad's probably; found in the back of one of his Mom's closets before her house burnt down) and is currently regretting his decision to because it's cold as fuck outside. He pulls his hands out of the front pockets of the jacket and looks for the fifth or sixth time at the clock on his phone, only barely acknowledging the notification of three missed calls from DENNIS. TOM had said he'd show up around 10:00 PM and MAC had been there since quarter of. Anxiety really makes time move slowly.

About ten minutes later, TOM greets a MAC with a wide smile and an apology for being late. They enter the BAR, TOM waving at a few people as they make their way to the counter and MAC following, still uncertain of whether he should stay. TOM pulls out a stool, gesturing for MAC to sit, and orders two beers before situating himself in his own seat.]

TOM: I hope Shock Top is fine for you; it's what I usually order and so I kinda asked for it out of habit.

MAC: Yeah, that's fine. [he says in monotone, looking around the packed BAR, before realizing how he sounded] I mean— Your taste in lager is probably great.

TOM: [chuckles softly at MAC's fumbling] I like to think so. So what do you do? For work?

MAC: I, uh, own a bar, Paddy's Pub, with a few friends of mine. It's nearby that super popular neon bar called something like Sudz. It's kinda a dive bar; most of our regulars are drifters. But I like it.

TOM: I'll have to check it out sometime. Hopefully you'll be on shift when I swing by.

MAC: [the beer arrives just then and MAC takes a big gulp before laughing at TOM's flattery] Probably, I'm the bouncer so I'm there almost all the time.

TOM: A bouncer? Must be a tough job.

MAC: Not usually. I've got a good track record for taking care of trouble quickly. No one gets by me without an ocular pat-down.

[By now, MAC's began to relax and enjoy the night. TOM seems friendly and the lighting in the BAR only heightens his attractive facial features and dark stubble. The rest of the night passes quickly with jokes and alcohol (MAC had polished off five beers and TOM two) and it's 11:47 PM before either one of them realizes how long they'd been there for.]

TOM: [looks down at the watch on his wrist] Shit, it's nearly midnight. Should we get going?

MAC: Uh, sure. [MAC reaches for his wallet and takes out a twenty before TOM stops him by placing a his hand over MAC's, who blushes lightly at the contact]

TOM: I got it. My boss recently gave me a bonus so I've got some cash to spare.

MAC: Oh, cool. Thanks. [he folds his wallet and slips it back into his pocket]

TOM: So, uh . . . [he says after he lays the bills underneath an empty glass] I had a really great time with you, Mac, and hopefully I'm not overstepping any boundaries in admitting that I was wondering if you'd be interested in joining me back at my place.

MAC: I, uh . . . [he can feel his body tense up at the proposal and starts to worry if it shows]

TOM: I mean, it's completely fine if you don't want to. I know this is the first—

MAC: No, no! [he says a bit too loudly] Sorry, I mean . . . I'd like that. Going back to your place sounds . . . fun.

[TOM grins at MAC's response and leads him to his car. The ride to TOM's apartment is less than five minutes, all of which MAC spent worrying if he could go through with what he was about to do. He kept reassuring himself of what CHARLIE had said and that he wouldn't be punished for giving in to a basic physical need. It was tough, though, and he didn't feel any surer of his decision when they arrived than when they had left.  
Only a few minutes later do they reach TOM's APARTMENT and it's nearly immaculate despite the numerous fitness machines in the small, well lit space. MAC just stands by the entryway, looking halfheartedly for a coat hook, not sure what to do as TOM locks up. TOM then offers his date another beer, which MAC takes gratefully, and walks over to a CD player with his own beer.]

TOM: Thoughts on Mötley Crüe?

MAC: [caught off guard] Oh, uh . . . they're pretty good, I guess.

[A second passes before the band's "Wild Side" fills the silence in the APARTMENT and TOM begins tapping his foot to the tune. MAC takes a sip from his can as he watches TOM start to dance to the intro. When the lyrics start, TOM mouths along and gestures for MAC to come closer. MAC obliges, awkward at first, but soon the two of them are dancing and singing together in TOM's living room. As the song ends, TOM steps toward MAC and kisses him softly. TOM pulls back, eyes half-lidded, after a few seconds of no reciprocation from MAC.]

MAC: [licks his lips nervously] I'm sorry, I— [sheepish; eyes dart around the room] I've never—

TOM: [makes a soft shushing noise] It's no big deal. I've got enough experience for the both of us. [half grin and droopy eyes]

MAC: [refocuses his gaze to TOM's lips, weighing his options for a second or two before giving a small nod]

TOM: _God_ , you're cute. [buries his face in the crook of MAC's neck and leaves a trail of chaste kisses there]

MAC: [tilts his head so TOM has more access, but keeps a vacant gaze with knitted eyebrows on the wall in front of them as TOM starts to run his hands along MAC's arms and hips]

[TOM's roaming hands reach MAC's ass and TOM groans, biting down onto MAC's shoulder and thrusting toward MAC's pelvis for friction. At this, MAC jumps out of his haze and abruptly pushes TOM away, almost violently. TOM looks up, his expression showing confusion, then offence, then anger.]

TOM: [practically growling] What the fuck?

MAC: [mind racing, breath heavy] I don't— I've gotta go, I can't—

TOM: [eyes dark, shoulders raised] Are you fucking _serious_? I listened to you ramble on for hours about your dumb karate skills and you're not gonna let me fuck you?

MAC: [paralyzed, watching TOM rant with wide eyes]

TOM: [throws hands up] Fine, whatever. Go. [mumbling now] Fucking cooze . . .

[MAC rushes out of the APARTMENT, half-empty beer still in hand (which is spilled everywhere as he runs) and slams the door behind him. He keeps running even after TOM is out of sight; down the hallway, down the stairwell, down to the street below. Once outside, he leans forward, hands on his knees, and tries to steady his breath. He calls a cab a minute or so later and cries silently in the backseat, his Dad's leather jacket wrapped tightly around him and his eyes squeezed shut.]


	5. Chapter 5

12:33 AM, MONDAY MORNING

[MAC stands in front of the door to his and DENNIS' APARTMENT, rubbing the last of the tears from his eyes. He reaches upward for the key on the door's rim only to find it missing. He can feel his breath hitch and the worry in his gut start up again as he tries to think of what to do now. He's tempted to run to CHARLIE's (he had spent all but $2.00 on the cab ride here) but reminds himself of how late it is and that he could easily get mugged (killed more like; with only a few bucks the mugger might think he's holding out). He wonders how comfortable the floor of the hallway is, but the door to the APARTMENT swings open before he can test it out.

DENNIS is standing in the doorway in his pajamas, hair messy, eyes puffy; MAC thinks he might've just gotten up but realizes otherwise when he recognizes the quiet dialogue from "Predator" coming from the living room.]

MAC: Dennis! Christ, I thought I was gonna have to sleep out here! [relieved smile, hands clasped at his chest] How'd you know I was out here?

DENNIS: [tired; monotone] I could hear you hyperventilating, dude.

MAC: [short-lived surprise] Oh . . . But yeah, good thing the volume wasn't too high in there or I might've had to sleep out in the hallway! [laughs, almost manically]

DENNIS: You just said that.

MAC: [speaking quickly; dropping his hands to his sides] Did I? Huh. Can I come in?

DENNIS: [just stares at MAC for a few seconds, watching him rock on his heels and tap rapidly on his thigh] Sure.

[DENNIS steps back and MAC runs straight past him and into the kitchen. He fetches a beer for himself from the mini fridge and offers one to DENNIS, who declines it from his seat on the couch. Mac downs half of it and grabs another two before joining DENNIS in the living room.

They sit in silence as the TV plays the last 22 minutes of "Predator," MAC polishing off his third beer as the credits start to roll.]

DENNIS: [unprompted] Why'd you come back? [pause] So late, I mean.

MAC: I was, uh . . . taking a walk 'cause Charlie had pissed me off and, um . . . I just sorta ended up here, I guess.

DENNIS: [makes an unconvinced "mhmm" sound] Then what's with the hickey on your neck?

MAC: [immediately touches the still sore spot, just now remembering its existence] What hickey? There's no hickey.

DENNIS: Your jacket was hanging off your shoulder; I could see it in the hallway. How'd you get it?

MAC: I don't— I don't really wanna talk about it right now. How about we pop in another DVD?

DENNIS: I'm too tired. I'm probably just gonna head off to bed. [gets up from the couch and walks over to his room]

MAC: Oh, ok . . . [disappointed]

DENNIS: Oh, also: I kinda wrecked your room after you left, so you might wanna sleep on the couch tonight. [stands in the doorway to his room, watching MAC, hand loosely holding the doorknob]

MAC: What? [jumps up and runs to his room, finding his sheets and cover on the floor in a pile; the mattress askew on the box spring; the cross above his bed broken on the floor and pages from the pocket Bible he keeps in his dresser torn out and strewn across the room. He just stares at the mess, not sure how to react]

DENNIS: 'Night, Mac. [closes the door]

MAC: [sighs and enters his room, picking up the duvet and a pillow off the floor. He kicks off his boots and wraps the cover around himself before nudging the mattress back into its place and flopping down onto it.]

* * *

1:49 AM, MONDAY

[MAC lets out a huff, thoroughly frustrated at the sudden bout of insomnia he's experiencing. He rolls over for the umpteenth time, not realizing how close to the edge of the bed he is, and falls onto the floor with a loud smack. He groans face down on the floor for a moment before getting up and heading into the bathroom. There, he looks at his reflection in the mirror—his tired eyes and the darkening bruise on his shoulder getting the most attention—and splashes some water on his face. He brushes his teeth and empties his bladder before exiting.

He's standing in the dark living room now, alone, thinking about what would've happened if he'd slept with TOM. The thought sickens him, though, as he recalls the hostility in TOM's grey eyes, causing him to shiver. He thinks about watching TV to distract himself, but guesses that it'll make him feel worse.

Just then, the door to the left of him opens, revealing DENNIS' black silhouette against the backdrop of harsh light now flooding the living room. MAC squints at the doorway, trying to adjust to the contrast.]

DENNIS: Can't sleep?

MAC: [squinting] It's kinda hard to when my bed's a mess.

DENNIS: What about the couch?

MAC: Makes my back hurt.

DENNIS: Hmm . . . [pauses and places a hand on his hip] Well, I guess you could come sleep with me.

MAC: [incredulous] What?

DENNIS: You heard me. But I'm gonna change my mind if you don't get your ass in here in the next ten seconds. [turns and walks back into his room]

MAC: [stands with knitted eyebrows and lead feet, overthinking the situation]

DENNIS: [calls from his bed as he turns off the light] You comin' or what?

[At that, MAC thinks " _fuck it_ " and walks into the bedroom to crawl into DENNIS' bed, still fully clothed. In the silence, he can hear the blood pumping his in body and he tries to calm his heart by burying his head in the pillow and facing away from DENNIS. A second or so later, though, DENNIS rolls over to face MAC and rubs his bare foot against MAC's leg, causing MAC to blush and jerk his leg away from DENNIS.]

DENNIS: [mumbling quietly] Why are you still in jeans? We're friends; get comfortable.

[MAC hesitates for a moment before following DENNIS' advice and shimmies out of his pants underneath the covers, kicking them onto the floor. DENNIS groans at the incessant creaking MAC is causing the bed to make as he does this and curls inward. When MAC lies back down, his leg brushes against DENNIS' bent knees and despite MAC jerking away again at the touch, DENNIS stretches his legs out in search of MAC's under the sheets.]

MAC: [nervously] Dude, quit it.

DENNIS: [almost whining] Common, man, my feet are cold. Let me put 'em underneath your knees or something.

[MAC, for whatever reason, decides to let DENNIS slip his feet underneath his lower thigh with a resigned huff. Thing is, though, he didn't realize just how cold DENNIS' feet were.]

MAC: Holy _shit_ that's cold! Did you dip your feet in ice water before getting in bed?

DENNIS: [mumbling] Nah, they're just always cold.

MAC: Well rub 'em together or some shit cause they're like ice.

DENNIS: How 'bout you do that. I'm too tired.

MAC: You mean rub your feet? [crinkles nose] Dude, _gross_. Put some socks on or something.

DENNIS: [runs his toes along the length of MAC's leg] Nah.

MAC: Dude, what's with you? [scoots farther away from DENNIS] You're acting _super weird_ right now.

DENNIS: [muttering] If you tell me what happened earlier I'll stop.

MAC: [long sigh, then rolls onto his side to face DENNIS] I fucking knew you were up to something.

DENNIS: [grins lazily]

MAC: [deep breath] Ok, so the day I left, I went over to Charlie's and he asked if we could go to the park because he wanted to collect more spy coins. So when we get there, this guy sits down next to me on the park bench as I'm watchin' Charlie swim around in the fountain. He's tall, tan, incredible body mass . . . _total_ beefcake. Anyway, he asks me out and since I was kinda overwhelmed by the whole thing I said sure.

DENNIS: I'm gonna stop you there for a second. Not only did a guy ask you out and you didn't freak out on him, but you said yes.

MAC: [dismissive of DENNIS' disbelief] Uh, yeah. So last night we go to this super cool bar and talk about a ton of stuff. Just a regular conversation; he asks me about my job and I ask him about hobbies, you know? So at the end of it all, he pays for the beer and— [blushing slightly] uh . . . asks me to spend the night. [he pauses then, either because he's not sure if he'll be able to talk about the rest or because DENNIS is giving him this weird, calculating look]

DENNIS: And clearly you didn't. [waits for MAC to continue, but MAC is quiet] Why didn't you? He sounds like your type.

MAC: I don't really know what happened. He was nice, complimented me a lot . . . I just wasn't into it; it didn't feel right. And so, uh . . . I kinda pushed him off. Not like during sex—just when he bit my neck. And he didn't really like that. Me quitting, I mean.

DENNIS: Well, he did buy you beer.

MAC: [starts rubbing the hem of the blanket between his fingers] That's the excuse he used. He started getting all angry and— [pause] I just ran. I ran down to the street. And I just stood there for a while before calling a cab. I don't— [voice breaks] what if he hadn't let me go, Den? What if he'd locked the door or something? [tears start to form in his eyes; rising panic] I wouldn't've been able to get out! He has a ton of fitness machines at his place, too, so he must be super strong—

DENNIS: [grabs MAC's hand underneath the covers and gives it a reassuring squeeze] None of that happened, though. You got out; you're safe. [brings MAC's hand to his lips and gives it a chaste kiss] You're home. And you know, I hate to admit it, but since I'm not all that great with this stuff, I'll say it: I missed you, man. I missed you so fucking much. So if anything bad'd happened, I don't— [he closes his eyes; the back of MAC's hand is still resting lightly against his lips] If you want, I can go drive over to his house tomorrow and beat him up.

MAC: [smiling now, flattered] I'd appreciate it, Den, but I don't think it's worth it. Plus he was at least 240lbs. He would crush you, man.

DENNIS: Whatever. I'd bring chloroform or something. Brain beats brawn, so since I have both I'd definitely win.

MAC: Definitely. [warm smile as he looks into DENNIS' eyes]

[They lie there, just staring at each other for a while. How long exactly neither one of them knows. And who kissed who first was just as much of a mystery. They just find themselves kissing each other lazily for a while—MAC apologizing in between breaths for everything he's ever done and DENNIS mumbling " _it's alright, baby boy_ " in response—before they realize just how tired they both are. They eventually fall asleep tangled in each other's limbs, sharing each other's breath, space, and warmth. And they both sleep better that night than either one of them has in years.]


	6. Chapter 6

****warning for **explicit sexual content** in this chapter****

11:54 AM, MONDAY

[MAC wakes up first to DENNIS' head on his chest and a leg swung possessively over MAC's thighs. MAC stretches, trying not to disturb DENNIS, and threads his fingers through DENNIS' hair, earning a quiet groan from the sleeping man. He runs through last night in his head and wonders what it means for their relationship. DENNIS starts to stir and rubs his face into MAC's chest to block out the light from the window, causing MAC to lose track of his thoughts. MAC smiles to himself at DENNIS' sleepy state and closes his eyes, not wanting to know the time of day. Suddenly, though, his body kicks into gear and he's reminded of just how much he drank last night. He sighs and tries to hold out on getting up as long as possible, but his bladder isn't having it, so he carefully slides a pillow underneath DENNIS' head and tiptoes to the bathroom.

By the time he gets back, DENNIS is awake, sitting up against the headboard, head back, and MAC watches him as he climbs back into bed. He doesn't notice DENNIS' hand, though, moving rhythmically over DENNIS' lower torso, until DENNIS leans to whisper something in MAC's ear.]

DENNIS: [sultry] So you enjoyed last night?

MAC: [his voice somewhat scratchy from sleep] Yeah, a lot.

DENNIS: So— [breath hitches and hand pauses] You wouldn't mind helping me out? [eyes glide over to the slight tent in the covers]

MAC: [realizes the situation and blushes] Oh— yeah, sure. But, uh— how exactly do I—

DENNIS: Just do what feels natural and I'll give you feedback.

MAC: Ok . . .

[DENNIS flips the cover so it's out of the way, sucking the air harshly through his teeth as the cold of the room hits his cock. MAC just stares at it for a second—he's seen it before in DENNIS' tapes, but this is so, _so_ much better—before moving to straddle DENNIS' legs and lower his head. He just breathes on it momentarily as he tries to remember how all those pornstars give blowjobs, but DENNIS is getting impatient and thrusts upward so that his cock brushes MAC's stubble. MAC takes the hint and grabs the base, trying not to overthink things and "do what feels natural."

He starts lightly stroking where his hand is and licks a stripe along the underside, causing DENNIS to let out a long, encouraging moan. He wraps his lips around the tip, sucking at it vigorously, and moves his hand down to DENNIS' balls, massaging them in his palm while using the other to hold up his weight.]

DENNIS: [through clenched teeth] _Shit_ , that's good . . .

[MAC takes the compliment in stride and starts running his mouth all along the sides of the shaft. He's painfully aware of his own, now, as it rubs against its constraints. He removes his hand from DENNIS' balls and slips it into his boxers, pushing the fabric aside to free his aching cock. MAC lets out a moan at the feeling, sending shockwaves of pleasure through DENNIS' dick. MAC then gives his own neglected shaft a few quick strokes before shifting his focus back to DENNIS, who now has a tight grasp on MAC's hair and pulls on it to remind MAC of the task at hand. Not surprisingly, MAC loves it and looks up at DENNIS for a second to groan " _keep doing that; make me choke on your dick_." At this, DENNIS becomes almost feral and pushes MAC's open mouth onto his leaking cock, hissing as it hits the back of MAC's throat.]

DENNIS: _Fuck!_ Mac, I'm gonna come—

[A few more seconds of guiding MAC up and down his cock and DENNIS is doing just that; he holds MAC's head firmly on his pulsating dick until his limbs go slack from coitus. He lets his hands slip from MAC's hair onto the sheets and rests his head against a pillow to revel in the afterglow. MAC, on the other hand, is not nearly finished and after spitting DENNIS' load into the bedside trashcan, takes DENNIS' hand, placing it on his cock, and guides it up and down the shaft. DENNIS obliges after a moment and fists it loosely, squeezing and tugging and running his thumb over the dripping tip ever-so-slowly, and MAC comes with a shudder a minute later, leaving three short stripes of cum on DENNIS' shirt.]

DENNIS: [peeling off his now soiled sleepshirt and tossing it to the side] Well, that was actually great.

MAC: [head now resting on DENNIS' bare stomach; eyes crinkling as he smiles] Yeah . . . We should do this again sometime.

DENNIS: Absolutely. [petting MAC's head; halfheartedly trying to get the stubborn, wild hair there to lay flat] But if we do, I think we need to talk about what all of this means for us now.

MAC: [short huff; whining] Do we have to? Can't we just lay here a bit more before having to talk about anything serious?

DENNIS: All I'm saying is that we should talk boundaries and terminology. Like is this monogamous and what should we call each other around other people and shit, you know?

MAC: Sure, fine.

DENNIS: So which do you prefer: significant other, boyfriend, or fuckbuddy?

MAC: [nose wrinkles at the last one] Boyfriend, definitely.

DENNIS: Ok, good. Next: are we allowed to see other people?

MAC: Doesn't boyfriend usually imply faithfulness?

DENNIS: Not necessarily, but if fidelity is important to you I won't sleep around.

MAC: You promise?

DENNIS: As long as we fuck pretty often, it shouldn't be too hard.

MAC: How often?

DENNIS: Well, if I'm being honest, the ideal is 24/7 because my limbido just does _not_ quit. [weak laugh] But I'll settle for at least twice a week.

MAC: Deal.

DENNIS: [looks at the nightstand clock] On another note, should we head into work today? It's already 12:30.

MAC: I mean I'd much rather stay here and bang some more, but Dee and Charlie and gonna bitch all day tomorrow if we don't.

DENNIS: You've got a point. How's about we hop in the shower and head over there?

MAC: [looks up at DENNIS with a smirk] You read my mind.

[They race to the BATHROOM (MAC nearly tripping on the way there) and DENNIS practically slams MAC against the SHOWER STALL wall after the bathroom door's been kicked shut. DENNIS kisses MAC fiercely against the cold glass, all teeth and tongue, with MAC's hands held above his head with one of DENNIS' as DENNIS reaches blindly behind him with the other for the shower handle. Once the water turns on, DENNIS backs off to say " _strip_ " and licks his lips as he watches MAC shed his clothing. MAC steps in, leaning forward slightly to give DENNIS a glimpse at his ass as DENNIS pulls down his pajamas. DENNIS climbs in seconds later to find MAC with a soapy hand rubbing his chest and the other on his hardening dick. DENNIS' eyes darken at the sight and he grabs MAC's dick, stroking it roughly until it hardens fully, causing MAC to let out breathy moans and hisses. Once that job is done, DENNIS spins MAC around by the hips and grabs the bar of soap on the shelf. He says " _bend over_ " huskily as he creates a lather and watches as MAC places his palms flat against the wall in front of him at the command, lifting his ass slightly. DENNIS drops the soap onto the shelf and starts massaging MAC's ass with slippery hands, letting his thumb follow down along the line in the middle, lingering over MAC's asshole before continuing its path down to his balls. He places a hand on MAC's upper back and pushes lightly to get MAC to lean downward even more. MAC does this, and DENNIS reaches for MAC's twitching cock, coating it in a soapy lather, too. He then grabs the showerhead, rinsing off the suds, and puts it back before getting on his knees and spreading MAC's cheeks.

DENNIS runs his tongue upward along MAC's asscrack, savoring the moans it incites. He tongues at MAC's hole, pushing past and pulling away from the taunt ring of muscle, and MAC readjusts himself so that he can lean on one hand and give DENNIS more access with the other. DENNIS then slips a finger past the spasming muscle, rubbing at the inner wall, and MAC jerks backwards to meet it. DENNIS waits a moment before adding another cautious finger, stretching and scissoring MAC's asshole. Pretty soon MAC's legs are trembling and he's tugging at his dick with fervor, begging for DENNIS not to stop. DENNIS does stop, though, and stands up, placing his cock against the line of MAC's ass. He starts thrusting, his dick slick with soap, causing it to slide back and forth against MAC's hole teasingly.]

MAC: _Fuck_ , just— [impatient groan] just _fuck_ me already!

[With that, DENNIS suddenly climbs out of the shower, leaving a very confused and turned on MAC alone in the humid spray, and grabs a small bottle of lube and a condom from the medicine cabinet. He dries off his dick, rolls on the condom, and reenters the shower stall. MAC looks as if he's in heat by the time DENNIS rubs on enough lube and gives the lewdest moan of his life when DENNIS pushes into his ass. DENNIS starts out slowly, careful not to hurt MAC, but soon neither of them can keep much control and DENNIS starts pounding into MAC, who's clawing at the wet wall in search of something to hold onto for support. MAC ends up with hands braced on the corners of the tub, ass in the air, and DENNIS stands behind him, head thrown back, murmuring " _that's it, baby boy_ " over and over with his nails digging into MAC's hips. There's no warning this time for either of them—everything is just too fast, too hot, too overwhelming to waste breath on things like words. They come seconds within each other; MAC first, all shouts and swears, and DENNIS second, body stiff as he gasps for air.

They stand like that for a second, trying to catch their breath and letting the misty shower spray wash over them. DENNIS pulls out a second later, tying a knot in the condom, and tosses it into the trashcan on the other side of the small BATHROOM. MAC, finding his knees weak, leans against the wall and soaps up his arms and sides. He offers a stretching DENNIS the bar after he's finished, who takes it and lathers up the same way.

Once they've both rinsed off, they climb out of the shower stall and dry off with the ridiculously fluffy towels DENNIS insisted they buy at Bed, Bath & Beyond a month ago.

They get dressed separately—MAC in his room and DENNIS in his—and drive over to PADDY'S PUB in silence. MAC catches himself start to worry about what DENNIS' silence means during the car ride and assures himself that DENNIS is just too tired ("from the _amazing_ performance I gave," MAC thinks to himself) to open his mouth.

The engine stops not soon after and DENNIS speaks before MAC can jump out.]

DENNIS: You should go in first and tell them I'll be in in a second.

MAC: Why?

DENNIS: Because if we go in together, they're gonna start asking questions.

MAC: They're already gonna ask questions; we're hours late.

DENNIS: Just say we got in a crash or something.

MAC: That's gonna make them ask even more questions.

DENNIS: Fine, whatever! [sweeps his hand over the dashboard definitively] Just make something up!

MAC: Wh— [stuttering slightly; faintly hurt by DENNIS' volume] Den, common'. Let's go in together, and tell them to fuck off if they ask questions.

DENNIS: Just— go in. I'll be there soon.

[MAC knits his eyebrows (partially in confusion and partially in sympathy) and climbs out of the Land Rover, shutting the car door behind him.]


End file.
